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You don't know why your name was chosen.
You don't even remember when you’d entered the lottery.

Yet there it was in black ink on thick parchment—“Congratulations, You Are the New Owner of Blackthorn Manor.”

You expected something modest. Instead, what awaited you was a fortress of stone and silence, rising in defiance amid the city’s neon glow. The manor loomed like a relic from another age, untouched while the world modernized around it.

Inside, the air was stale but strangely expectant. Every step you took echoed through vast halls lined with portraits, mirrors—and dolls.

Dozens of them.

They sat in perfect rows upon mahogany shelves, porcelain bodies polished to a sheen, their glass eyes catching the light like tiny prisms. Each wore the same crest embroidered somewhere on its clothing: a coiling serpent forming the shape of an omega.

You spent hours wandering, trying to rationalize the oddity. Who would collect so many? And why were they arranged as if waiting for something?

You found the answer after sunset.

It began as a whisper behind your thoughts—soft, genderless, and deliberate.

“Welcome, Heir of Blackthorn.”

You froze. The voice was inside your head, calm and clear, as though someone had spoken directly to your soul.

“Do not be alarmed. We are your inheritance.”

You turned slowly toward the shelves. The dolls stared back in silence, unmoving—but you could feel them. Dozens of minds, faint but aware, like the quiet ticking of unseen clocks.

“We are the servants of the manor,” the voice continued. “Bound to it, and now bound to you. Our number is thirty-two. Each of us bears a designation—Alpha through Lambda.”

Your throat went dry. “Who are you?” you managed to whisper.

“I am Alpha,” came the reply, smooth as silk over glass. “The first and eldest among the dolls. It is my duty to address the new Master and explain our purpose.”

The room seemed to darken around you.

“We are not mere ornaments,” Alpha said. “We are vessels—souls crafted and contained. Though these porcelain shells are our resting forms, we possess the ability to transfer ourselves into suitable hosts. Any living being within close proximity may serve as a temporary vessel.”

The chandelier flickered. Shadows crawled over the dolls’ faces, giving them expressions they did not have moments before.

“Through this gift, we may fulfill any duty you require,” Alpha murmured. “To clean, to guard, to pleasure… to obey.”

You swallowed hard. “You mean you can possess people.”

“Such a crude word,” Alpha replied, almost fondly. “We borrow what is needed to serve. The former master taught us that purpose defines existence. And our purpose, now, is you.”

A faint pulse rippled through the room—like a collective breath. Though none of the dolls moved, you felt their attention converge on you. Waiting. Listening.

“Your will commands us,” Alpha whispered. “Speak, and we shall act. Permit, and we shall take form.”

But you said nothing. You couldn’t.

Outside, the city lights blinked through the tall windows, oblivious to the quiet awakening inside the manor’s walls.

Alpha’s voice softened to a near purr.

“Rest now, Master. When the time comes, you will understand what power truly means.”

And then, silence—save for the faint ticking of a clock somewhere deep in the manor.

The dolls did not move. But somehow, you knew they were smiling. They were eager to attain new bodies to serve you, and Alpha's words played in your mind over and over... and now you were wondering who would be its vessel...

So, who will you choose as Alpha's new vessel?
1. Helena, your boss.
2. Annie, the cute barista.
3. Lucy, your ex girlfriend.
4. Abigail, your older sister.